Page 47 of Country Contract

Harrison chooses this moment to look at my mouth. He’s not amused by my smile; there’s a fire behind his eyes when he looks at my lips. He places one hand next to me on the couch cushion, and I feel it dip with his weight. His hard length is pressed against my backside, and I push back against it. His free hand cups my breast, and another self-conscious thought crosses my mind.

He seems to be a grabby man, and I don’t have a lot to offer. Even though there isn’t even a handful he doesn’t hesitate. He gives a gentle squeeze and then drags his fingers to the pebbled nipple in the center. My breasts may be small, but they’re sensitive. Reading my response, he rolls the pebbled peak between his thumb and middle finger before giving a tug. I moan and turn my head in search of his mouth.

He kisses me lightly before dragging his lips against mine, asking for another bite. I oblige, taking the swollen flesh between my teeth and pulling. He growls and grinds himself harder against me, pushing my dress higher up on my thighs.

I worry his pants will cause a tear in my tights, so I reluctantly pull my head back.

“Careful, you’ll ruin my tights,” I say on an exhale.

Harrison’s hand leaves my breast, and he sees disappointment appear on my face. He pushes himself off the couch and moves to stand, placing both hands on my hips. I try to move, but he quickly pushes me back down.

“I must be doing a poor job of keeping you company if all you can think about is me ruining these tights.” His hands slide from my hips to the curve of my ass then down to the hem of my dress.

“No, I?—”

“I should step up my game. That way you make this . . . what did you say? Worth my while?” He pulls the bottom of my dress over my ass, leaving the fabric bunched at my waist.

“It’s fine.”

His fingers run up my thighs, and I suddenly wish I wasn’t wearing these tights at all. He traces my outer lips with his fingers, and I try to push back. “What are you?—”

“These.” He drags those fingers up and down again, tracing right outside my opening, tracing right around my clit, not touching anything I want him to. Suddenly he pinches the nylon material and pulls it away from me.

“These are already ruined.” When he releases it, it snaps back to my skin. Before I speak again, he leans forward and drags a finger across my bottom lip. It’s coated with my shameless, needy arousal.

“You feel that, witch? These tights are done for.” Harrison sounds so different. He sounds almost mean, and I’m here for it.

He grips the fabric covering my ass, and I know what he plans to do.

“Wait—” But before I can say another word, I hear the rip of nylon.

I really loved these tights.

“Damn, you’re a bad witch; just a little petting and you’ve gone and ruined a pair of tights and panties. Dirty. Old. Witch.”

He did not just call me old.

“What did you just call me?!” I move to stand, but he pushes me back down.

“I’m just a kid, I don’t know any better. Maybe another day you can give me a lesson on manners. For now, I’ll take the heat for my behavior.” His voice is mocking and strained; I love it. I want to have something to say back, but all I can do is glare at him.

“That’s right, hex me.” He says as he pulls my panties to the side and lazily drags a finger up my drenched center. I want more contact. I want more of his awful words. I want more.

He doesn’t make me wait as he explores the sensitive flesh at a leisured pace, almost as if he doesn’t care at all. Mylegs start to shake with anticipation, with the buildup of needing tofinallybe touched where I want.

When he does, he rubs small circles around my swollen clit, making sure not to apply too much pressure. It’s steadfast and intoxicating, and I can feel myself clenching around nothing, wishing there was something to fill the void.

“P-please—” I begin to beg.

“I know . . . my needy sorceress.” His hand moves from my hip up my body under my dress. I wish he would just rip his pants off and slide home. That exploring hand settles on my breast while his fingers at my core make lazy circles again. I push my chest down into one hand and push my ass back into the other.

“Fuck, you’re a vision,” he says before working at my clit and massaging my breast. I’m so close, I just need a little more, and a little more he gives. Just as I feel myself at the edge of my climax, Harrison slides a thick thumb inside me while his middle and ring fingers never break pace.

I moan out into the empty room thinking there is no way I could come harder, only to realize I was wrong. He bites down hard where my neck meets my shoulder, and a second wave joins the first. I squeeze his finger inside me and scream. Not a word, not a name, just air leaving my lungs in a loud sound.

It feels foreign, but so damn good.

Chapter 21

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